


naughty boy

by omorobo



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Autistic Aaron Hotchner, Autistic Spencer Reid, Bottom Spencer Reid, Choking, Coming In Pants, Grey-Aromantic Reid, Horny idiots to lovers, M/M, Masochism, Pining, Semi-Public Sex, incredibly unrealistic workplace sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omorobo/pseuds/omorobo
Summary: Hotch is working a serial bombing case in LA. He's prepared to handle a suspicious package or maybe a concerned witness. He's very much not prepared to see Reid getting his ass handed to him in an alley by a very attractive stranger.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 125





	1. Chapter 1

Aaron Hotchner has had an incredibly long day. The BAU is in Los Angeles tracking a serial bomber, and they have just about jack shit to go on. He's been cooped up in the same office for the past seven hours sorting through the profile, so when Hotch gets a memo from the chief of police regarding a potential lead downtown, he's desperate for a chance to stretch his legs. They're in for a long night, so he swings by the conference room to take Starbucks orders.

"Hey." He raps gently on the doorframe, startling Derek out of his focus. Emily, on the other hand, does not move an inch. She's asleep on a tiny breakroom couch in the corner. Hotch makes no effort to wake her, as she had chased a potential unsub for half a mile on foot earlier that day and, in his opinion, deserved as much rest as she felt was necessary.

"Oh. Hey, boss, what can I do you for?" Derek puts on his characteristic winning smile with palpable effort.

"Jesus, Morgan. Take a break. I'm headed to Starbucks. Want anything?"

Emily stirs, turning her head slightly, and mumbles what sounds like "Get me a triple-double with whipped cream" before turning over and going back to sleep.

Derek nods, massaging his temples. "I know, I'm just... I feel like I have an idea about this guy. You're right, though, I should rest my eyes. Could you grab me a black coffee? I appreciate it."

"Sure. Where's Reid?"

"Said he was heading out to follow up with our witness. Near some club, I don't remember the name. He left, uh..." Derek squints at the wall clock. "About an hour and a half ago?"

"Hm. Alright, I'll check in with him." Hotch departs, considering the pros and cons of an iced coffee so late at night. Granted, nights were usually warm in LA, especially in the summer, so it wouldn't be odd to - Oh right. Reid. He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text.

"You good? Morgan said you were out. Call if you need anything."

Hotch bypasses the parked SUV, deciding instead to walk. He needs the exercise, and the gentle breeze is more than welcome after so much time indoors. He's a few blocks away from the coffee shop, in front of the parking lot for a bar called The Eagle- oh, so a gay bar, then- when he hears something strange.

It's a voice, a very familiar voice, and then- a gasp? or maybe a stifled cry of pain? It's coming from the alley next to the building.

He stops short, listening. Hotch can't make out any words, but the tone is rushed, pleading, almost- Oh shit. Hotch checks his phone. No response. An awful feeling settles in the base of his stomach and he moves back, away from the alley, to get a better vantage point.

His worst fears are immediately confirmed as he sees Reid against the brick wall of the alley with a stranger's hand around his throat. 

Hotch swiftly and silently crosses the parking lot, drawing his weapon. He's almost out of cover when the strangest thing happens. Reid reaches up, his face contorted in pain, and taps the burly man's forearm twice.

The stranger immediately lets go, and Spencer Reid lets out a filthy moan and comes in his pants.

What the _fuck_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! this is lowkey inspired by another fic that i can't find anymore, but i will edit the notes if i find it!


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir, can I take your order? Sir?"

Hotch snaps back to reality. "Hi, can I get, uhh, a small, er, tall black coffee, and, a triple double- I mean, a double, uh, double chocolate frappuccino, grande, and a tall iced americano. Please. Thank you. Yes."

The barista looks at him. "Okay. Cool. That'll be 9.60."

"Six ninety. I mean. Nine sixty. Right." Hotch hands them his credit card. His hands are shaking.

Hotch's legs somehow carry him all the way back to the police station. He sets down the coffee tray, staring into the middle distance, and wordlessly hands Derek the black coffee. Morgan thanks him as he leaves the room. 

Back at his desk, Aaron Hotchner's thoughts catch up to the rest of his brain.

That was definitely Reid. Spencer Reid. Professional Boy Genius Doctor Spencer Reid. Always Put-Together Uptight Nerd Spencer Reid. Getting consensually choked out in an alley by a fucking muscle daddy.

Hotch genuinely doesn't know what to think. Maybe this was Reid's first experience with stuff like that? Maybe it wasn't even Reid! It could have just been some guy! Maybe it was a misunderstanding? Shit, maybe Reid had actually been in danger and Hotch could have been there to help him but now- Okay. No. He knows what he saw. No big deal, just his coworker fucking some guy, happens all the time. He saw something he shouldn't have, it's fine, time to move on. Hotch carefully sorts and compartmentalizes each of these thoughts and files them away. Problem solved. So why can't he stop thinking about the sound of Reid- Okay. No. No. Absolutely not. Aaron Hotchner is not having gay thoughts about his coworker. Aaron Hotchner is too old for that. Aaron Hotchner is a professional.

The door to the private office swings open.

Aaron Hotchner is definitely having gay thoughts about a man nearly half his age and is trying desperately to avoid thinking about it.

Spencer stands in the doorway, looking composed as ever, holding an iced americano. The ice is almost fully melted. For a moment, neither of them speak. Hotch feels his face flush and attempts to look anywhere other than Spencer's neck.

The condensation drips from the coffee cup to the carpet below. There is a single fingerprint-shaped bruise peeking out from under Spencer's collar.

"Hey, Hotch. Morgan said to bring this to you." He sets the coffee on the desk. "How are you feeling?"

 _Bad? Horny? Incredibly conflicted?_

"I'm fine. Where were you?"

At last, the moment of truth.

"Just following up on that lead. Nothing new, unfortunately. I'm going to look into the other bombing case from a few years ago, see if I can find any more connections." Reid lies like a trained professional, which, technically, he is.

"Okay. Good luck." Miraculously, he manages to keep his voice steady.

Reid heads back to the conference room, leaving Hotch alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes that is actually what the total would be at starbucks. also as much as i love whatever the opposite of 'slow burn' is i seem to be incapable of writing it. thanks for the kudos.


	3. Chapter 3

"Just following up on that lead. Nothing new, unfortunately. I'm going to look into the other bombing case from a few years ago, see if I can find any more connections."

Hotch stares at him. Reid looks away. Caught you.

"It's not...clever...to lie to a profiler, Reid. I thought you would have known better than that."

Reid turns scarlet.

"Hotch, I- I can explain, I-"

"Spencer. On your knees. Hands behind your back." He immediately complies. Hotch takes a step back, admiring the beautiful twink kneeling in front of him, and hits him across the face. Spencer whines and involuntarily bucks his hips.

"P...please..." His voice is almost low enough to be a whisper.

"What was that?" Hotch crosses the room and closes the door.

"Hotch!" Reid's voice is desperate, needy.

"I'm leaving the door unlocked. If Morgan decides to check on me, he's going to find you sucking me off like a little whore."

Reid's cock is almost painfully hard. "Hotch, please, I- I'm sorry I lied. Please, just-"

Hotch hits him again. Reid moans, loudly.

"Prettyboy got his wires crossed, huh?" Spencer nods, tearing up. "Go on then. You can use your hands if you want." 

Spencer declines, leaning forward to undo Aaron's zipper with his teeth, and Hotch wakes up drenched in sweat on the accursed conference couch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i am projecting onto hotch. also the 'prettyboy' line is from another fic that i cannot find. please come kill me my address is-
> 
> edit: it’s from Baby One More Time by abusemesoftly, thanks TobiasHankel :)


	4. Chapter 4

A week passes, and Hotch can barely stand to look at him. Before... whatever the fuck happened during that bombing case, there was never any reason for him to think of Reid in that way. Hotch, like everyone else in the BAU, simply assumed that Reid was not interested in, well, anyone. At least not in that way. Now that that particular illusion had been shattered into a million tiny pieces, Hotch was finding it increasingly more difficult to stay focused. It's as though a dam had broken in his mind, and now every time the man walks by, Hotch finds himself staring at that same spot just above Reid's collar. He tries justifying that to himself, citing it as merely concern for Reid's wellbeing, but it's not until he wakes up from yet another dream about sucking his own bruises into Reid's neck that he realizes he has a problem.

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't even notice Reid staring back at him. By the time he does, it's too late to pass off as a simple glance, and Reid gives him an _incredibly flirtatious_ once-over before returning to his work. Hotch has probably his fifteenth what-the-fuck moment in as many days, and hastens back into his office, closing the door behind him with a snap. What he fails to notice is Prentiss and Morgan trying desperately to contain their laughter.

 _Did that just happen?_

Back in the bullpen, Prentiss makes her way over to Reid's desk. She keeps her voice low, despite the nearly empty office.

"Okay, look. You're going to have to talk to him eventually. He's clearly noticed the-" Prentiss gestures to Reid's neck. "-and he's clearly into you."

Reid blushes and fixes his collar. "Look, Emily, I'm not- He's my _boss._ Also, get off my desk."

"Like that's ever stopped you before." She ignores the last part and continues to lean on Reid's desk.

"I'm not going to talk to him until I know for sure. He has to make the first move, and we go from there. I have rules for this kind of thing." 

"Oh, you have _rules_ now? I don't remember you having _rules_." At this, Morgan looks up.

"Again, he's my boss- oh, hey, Morgan, what's up?"

"So are we going to talk about what you're doing to Hotch, or..." He trails off, expectantly.

"I- I'm not... We're working on it. Do you have anything else on the case?"

"Oh, are you? Are you 'working on it'?" Because last time I checked, the plan was to have him stew in emotional repression until he finally comes crawling to you, begging to get-"

"Emily!" Reid yelps. An intern near the back of the room raises an eyebrow.

Morgan just laughs, then, "Did you want to discuss this somewhere else? I know a nice storage closet that would really-" 

Reid cuts him off as Prentiss laughs. "That was one time! One!" He's fighting to stay quiet, his ears turning pinker by the second. "You know what, Derek, if you don't want me to wait on this, I'll ask him right now."

Prentiss stops laughing. Morgan does not. Reid stands up from his chair.

"Wait- oh my god, Spence- you can't- prettyboy, c'mon," Morgan has tears in his eyes from laughter. "At least wait until we get off. Of work." He cracks up again.

The double entendre is not lost on Reid and he fixes Morgan with a glare before marching up the stairs to the offices. He turns again and mouths, "Fuck you," before knocking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "like everyone else in the bau" dumbass


	5. Chapter 5

Spencer doesn’t know what to expect- is Hotch pissed? Is he just repressed? Maybe he’s jerking off in there? Either way, Reid’s certainly not expecting Hotch to yank open the door on the first knock and pull him into his office. He walks around his desk and sits down. His hands are shaking- with rage? some other emotion? God, this is terrifying. 

“Reid, we need to talk.” He picks up a file on his desk. 

Literally the worst possible thing to hear. Great.

Reid retreats into his mind for a moment, breaking down and analysing the situation. His thought process is simple. 

1) Hotch saw me outside that bar. Hotch does not know that I know this.  
2) He saw the marks on my neck when I brought him that coffee. Hotch does not know that I know this.  
3) He has said nothing since this happened.  
4) He’s been staring at my ass, though.  
5) A lot.  
6) Hotch does not respond to nonverbal cues.  
7) Hotch does respond to blunt questions.  
8) The file he’s holding is empty.

A conclusion is formed.

“Aaron, be honest. Do you want to fuck me?”

Hotch blanches. “I’m— excuse me?”

Reid leans in, takes the file from him, and sets it on the desk. “Do you. Want to. Fuck. Me.”

Hotch is about to say something important. Hotch is going to set some serious boundaries between himself and his coworker. Hotch is standing up from his chair. Hotch is going to get fired. 

“I’m going to get fired.”

Aaron grabs Spencer by his tie and kisses him. Spencer is losing his fucking mind. It’s weirdly gentle- almost romantic? The constant background noise that occupies Reid’s mind is quickly reduced to _“damn, i guess that worked. cool”_ and _“wow his lips are soft”_ before it all goes quiet. 

Eventually, Hotch pulls away. He’s shaking like a baby deer. Reid is flushed and grinning like an idiot.

“Reid, I- I’m s-”

“Nice.”

“I- really, I don’t know why I-”

“Aaron. I don’t care about... fucking... _professionalism_ right now. Please- just fuck me over your desk, sir.”

Reid’s words have exactly the intended effect. Or so he thought. Hotch snaps out of his self-imposed guilt spiral and speaks.

“Spencer.. I’m. I don’t think we should- do this. Here, I mean. Would you like to- have dinner? With me?” 

_Uh oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ch 5 spencer 🤝 me  
> being surprised that someone thinks of you as more than a sex object
> 
> (happy valentines day! i love u all, sorry i suck at updating)


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